Conversations Of Marauders
by CanadianIrishRabidBeavers
Summary: WARNING- This has nothing really to do with Harry Potter, but if you like humor, read it anyway. Contains- Humor, ramblings, excessive references to Harry Potter fanfics and liberal amounts of insanity and ice cream. Enjoy.
1. In the beginning, there was boredom

In September, we three insane ones, Aisling, Emily and Sam (who by some miraculous, and quite stupid, intervention of an unknown or shy higher power all go to the same school and are all in Grade 8) decided that instead of constantly getting ourselves in trouble in class by 1) talking 2) passing notes (which invariably seem to end up in the depths of Aisling's bag and fall out at the worst possible time) we would write all our pathetic excuses for conversations in a notebook (which again ended up living in Aisling's bag when not in use), then pass that. The reason we don't get caught throwing a bright red notebook to each other in Science class is because our teacher has serious observational difficulties.   
  
Sam, being very uncreative and having just read a load of Harry Potter fanfics, decided to name us the Marauders, over looking the facts that a) we're female and b) there's only three of us. Then we decided to post the contents of the infamous red notebook on our beloved fanfiction.net, in the hope that some poor soul would be tricked into reading it. So, read on and don't worry, any mental illness you might contract will be temporary. Ish.  
  
This was our very first entry in the Marauder Notebook. Sam is Moony, Aisling is Prongs and Emily is Padfoot. We were in Science class and doing a lab with some obscure chemical that none of us understood. By sheer dumb luck, we didn't blow anything up. We had to wear protective glasses, made complicated by the fact that all three of us wear normal glasses anyway. Prongs wouldn't stop complaining about them. Anyway, on to the ramblings of three strange minds . . .  
  
Science Class  
  
Moony: Couldn't we think of more original names?  
  
Moony- Sorry Prongs, I'm feeling unoriginal today. Moony is moody today (no pun intended)   
  
Padfoot-Yes well on to more important things. I'm hungry!  
  
Prongs-Moony has no sense of humor or creativity and Padfoot is feeling hungry during a science lab. Why me?  
  
Moony- Prongs: Are you mental? Of course we need our glasses! Why you? You act like it's a bad thing! Well it's not! You have been chosen by the biggest and most greatest forces of nature to be placed on my right hand side at this present time, and lucky enough to be graced by my presence and comedic humour! Be more thankful! Gods help me.  
  
Padfoot- OK, change of subject! Read any good fan fiction. Not me no sir-e! Change of subject - I'm hungry. Change of subject - I'm right-brained.  
  
Prongs- Moony: When you've deflated your head, I'll talk/write to you.  
  
Padfoot: No good fanfic lately, except At The Opera. "At that speed, I think mashed potatoes could leave scars". Hungry? Go check my bag, I might have food. Right-brained? I'm, both-handed, left-eyed and I don't know about my brain but I think it's working properly.  
  
Moony- Prongs: You have to talk to me! Moony is always the voice of reason & truth and "everything that is good and green in this life"! LONG LIVE THE SHIRE!  
  
Padfoot: Get a life and quit stating when you're going to change the subject. If you're hungry, have some sulfate of potassium. (A/N We were doing a science lab)  
  
Padfoot-Way to wipe out the cheerful vibes! My life-long mission is complete. What was my life-long mission, you ask? Well *drum roll* Ba bum bum bum bum Ba Ba Ba Ba bum DUHHHH!!!! Would you like to know my little minions and puny pathetic, stupid . . . . people!  
  
Prongs- Moony: You? Voice of reason and truth? Moony I was, but you, Moony II, are the voice of all those infected by rabid beavers and too much LOTR. And you still haven't deflated your head.  
  
Padfoot: That was more than I ever wanted to know about your life. And you didn't even tell me anything, so that's saying something.  
  
All/Both: Can we change names? Sam could be Padfoot (i.e. insane one to be largely ignored), Emily could be Prongs (just as insane, but not as bad a Padfoot) and I'll be the reasonable one (Moony) who will try and make sure you two don't go too insane.  
  
Moony- No I love Moony too much to part with his beautiful name! But I guess you could be Remus and Em could be . . . Romulus!  
  
Padfoot- Romulus? What the #?@! * beep * Where the hell did you get #?@!#??@| Romulus! Never!!! Vive le Padfoot!   
  
Prongs- Calm! Breathe!  
  
Padfoot- Sam, Moony: Shut the #@?!   
  
Prongs- Calm! Breathe!  
  
Padfoot- Aisling, Prongs or whatever: Where the #@?! Did Romulus come from?! I refuse!   
  
Prongs- Calm! Breathe! OK, I'll just stay Prongs then. Romulus and Remus were raised by wolves and founded Rome.  
  
Moony- "Why the !@#^ would I need a gun rack if I don't have a gun, let alone guns?! We broke up two months ago!! Are you mental?!? (A/N This came from an episode of the Simpsons. Moony is fond of quoting it)  
  
Spanish Class  
  
(Note that only Padfoot and Prongs take Spanish. Moony, for some unfathomable reason, takes German. Though Padfoot and Prongs do daily question their choice to take Spanish. But anyway.)  
  
Padfoot- BEWARE, INSOMNIACS WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!  
  
Prongs- I get to rule the world? I knew there had to be one good thing about insomnia. Other than lots of uninterrupted time to set up practical jokes. And lots of time on the computer.  
  
Padfoot- Ummm, what?  
  
Prongs- I AM AN INSOMNIAC! I WILL RULE THE WORLD!! (While everyone else is asleep)  
  
Padfoot- Right . . . tell me something I don't know!  
  
Prongs- You . . you . . . agree with me? HELL FROZE OVER!! (Again)  
  
Padfoot- Now, did I even say I agree with you? I said and I quote "right . . ." and Prongs, can't you read sarcasm. "Right". It's dripping in sarcasm.  
  
Prongs- Now, that hurt. Cut me deep, Shrek, cut me real deep.  
  
Padfoot- Get some goz and bandages and if you die, I'll put flowers on your grave.  
  
Prongs- It's spelt gauze. And I will be cremated. So put the flowers on Douglas Adams's grave. (A/N Author of Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Excellent and hilarious book. If you haven't read it, go read it. If you have, go read it again. To read it is to love it)  
  
Padfoot- But he still lives in my heart.  
  
Prongs- And mind. * Shudders * Poor man.  
  
Padfoot- What mind? Ha! Burnt!  
  
Prongs- No, not burnt. Non-existent. Fluid.  
  
Science Class (continuing the above excuse for a conversation, with Moony participating  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, what a mind trip. You take things too seriously (nobody say it!)  
  
Prongs- Say what?  
  
Padfoot- Don't make me say it!  
  
Moony- Sirius is being serious! Hah! I said it!  
  
Prongs- Oh, that. I would need to reduce my sense of humour about 20 notches to think of that. You people are sad.  
  
Padfoot- I like to think of it as a "broad" sense of humour.  
  
Prongs- No, a low sense of humour.  
  
Padfoot- (Insert a very bad drawing of a paw by Padfoot to try and lead the conversation away from her humorous short-comings) Dude, look! A paw!  
  
Prongs- Dude, look! An idiot/eejit who can't come to terms with their own lack of humour.  
  
Padfoot-Low blow!   
  
Prongs- Nope. Totally fair.  
  
Moony- Who actually says "dude" anymore? I mean, besides Mr. Hesse o' course. (A/N I know anyone who is crazy enough to actually read this must be getting tired of all these Author's Notes, but Mr. Hesse is the U-14 soccer coach. Says "dude" a lot, and is totally prejudiced against the female half of the world and Canadians. Evil American . . .)  
  
Prongs- Umm, Padfoot?  
  
Padfoot-So he was like "pleat!" and I was like "totally" and then like "skulat" and he was like, like, like "housefire" and then I left 'cause he was freakin' me out. Who says "pleat" anymore and he thinks there's a chocolate valley on the roof. And that's why he's called the philosophy .. . Whoa, wrong story  
  
OK, it might be a good idea to end the first chapter there. Any reader whose cognitive functions are still working, go eat some ice cream immediately. Eating ice cream releases endorphins, a chemical which makes you happier and more content. (Ask Moony rocks!) For all those who don't understand us (i.e. the world in general), it might help to read our bio.  
  
Reviews would be nice, but we have enough self respect not to beg for them. Yet.   
  
The management will not accept any responsibility for any injuries sustained as a result of reading this fanfics, be them mental or physical. Have a nice day. 


	2. Damned third person I sound like Dobb...

Disclaimer: Were we supposed to do one? There's nothing in here that has much to do with Harry Potter . . . Oh, yes, the title. Right then. Ahem. We do not own the names the Marauders, Moony, Padfoot or Prongs. Any references to fanfics that aren't ours have been pointed out. Thank you. Now, carry on reading, or go tell your shrink that the voices in your head and/or on fanfiction.net are annoying you again, whichever seems more appropriate.  
  
Now. Prongs was given the task of typing up the notebook and getting it on fanfiction.net. Those introductions, conclusions and wonderfully random Author's Notes timed to be read right before you poor readers decide to go raise carrier pidgeons instead of trying to fathom what we were talking about in our conversations. Or maybe Prongs made a mistake in her calculations and you all left anyway. Anyway, Prongs is typing up the notebook. She can't work out how to make thing bold, italicised or underlined. As you might have guessed, Prongs isn't very good at simple or practical things. Damn, I hate talking about myself in third person. It gets confusing. And it makes me think I'm writing a psychoanalysis of myself. Which, theoretically, I am. Whoa. Deep.  
  
Sorry, off topic again. Prongs is now back in psychoanalysis and third person mode again. Will some kind reader who has posted a story before please tell Prongs how to do bold, italics and underline, please?   
  
We will now precede to start the story and turn the brains of all readers into mush. With gravy. On to the rambling!  
  
Spanish Class  
  
(A/N *Grins sheepishly*. Not like a sheep, you understand. Just slightly ashamed of the fact that yous are hearing from me so soon. Anyway. Prongs and Padfoot are in Spanish and the teacher was trying to teach us how to say weather conditions. Sunny, cloudy etc. Problem: She couldn't get us to understand "rainy". Action: She opened an umbrella. Effect: The whole class freaked out. Bad luck and all that.)  
  
Padfoot- I don't wanna die! I'm too young. I have millions to make and spend and now I'm going to die because of an umbrella being opened indoors! Nooooooo!  
  
Prongs- There you go. Life. Or something like it.  
  
Padfoot- Something like it, eh? That's a mind trip. Just like "If anything is possible, is it possible that nothing is possible?" and "What would it be like if you choked a smurf?" There's a lot to think about, eh? Change of subject: She keeps staring at me . . . I think she knows!  
  
Prongs- Knows what? Are you hiding something from me? You mean . . . it was all a lie? You need conselling. or a good memory Charm.  
  
Padfoot- What are you talking about? Invading Moony's column while Moony's "sick"? . . . hmmm. Interesting, you amateur advice columnist! And yes, I know your secret . . . Juan Stamos!  
  
(A/N To understand the last paragraph, you need to have read The Gryffindor Oracle and Ask Moony. The Juan Stamos thing was because Padfoot was trying to explain to Prongs who John Stamos is. Prongs, being a little out of it, thought his last name sounded vaguely Spanish and promptly re-christened him "Juan Stamos" Oh, and for the next few paragraphs, Prongs and Juan Stamos are in no way related (at least, as far as Prongs knows) and Padfoot and Prongs were just spinning a random comment by Padfoot waaaaaaay out of whack)  
  
Prongs- No! No! Juan Stamos isn't my uncle! I've never met him! And he certaintly isn't my godfather!  
  
Padfoot- Ha! You just admitted your secret!  
  
Prongs- Fine, he is my uncle, but my grandfather disowned him after the Mary-Kate and Ashley show. We don't talk about him much. Too embarrassing.  
  
Padfoot- Change of subject: . . . . . . *chanting* "Think, think, think" Got any ideas?  
  
Science Class  
  
Moony- Hello, all my undermining, prankster friends! Must congratualte you on your superb conversation and having fun . . . WITHOUT ME!! Prongs: That would mean that your garndfather is . . . no it's too horrible . . . you know you . . . is . . . our Headmaster of the Middle School!!! Padfoot: I don't even want to say anything to you because I know you'll turn whatever I say inot something twisted that will most likely decrease my IQ by 20%.  
  
(A/N Great. Now the men in white coats can guess our approximate ages. Anyway, when she was talking about the headmaster/grandfather thing, Moony is referring to a fanfic. Can't remember which one, but if anyone who actually reads this (big if) actually wants to know, Prongs will (damned third person again . . .) try and remember and tell you.)   
  
Padfoot- Was that an insult my friend?Oh yeah, we have to do the "coin prank" when you glue a coin to the floor and watch people try to pick it up! While taking photos for future blackmail! MWAHAHAHAHA!!  
  
Prongs- Did that. Grade 5. Coin. Headmaster. No sense of humour. Need I say more? But maybe Grandad, I mean Dr. Crowley, will let us.  
  
Moony- We must! It has been decided! You have my sword/bow/axe . . We must form a plan!  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, one step at a time . . . Prongs, dod you say Grandad? Bum bu bum!  
  
Prongs- No! No, I didn't! OK, tomorrow, Padfoot brings the camera, Moony brings the glue and I'll bring the money. So it begins . . .  
  
Padfoot- I have a camera! Oh yes this will work!I will have my revenge! MWAHAHAHAHA!  
  
Moony- Revenge on who/what?  
  
Padfoot- Way to ruin the air of *mystery* Moony!  
  
Prongs- No. Moony had a point. THERE IS NO POINT TO REVENGE! Who will we get first? Or we can commit random acts of mind-boggling annoyance.  
  
Padfoot- Air of Mystery my stupid, lazy, no humourous minions!!!!  
  
Prongs- Ah-ha *mutters under breath about schizophrenia*  
  
Padfoot-Who has schizophrenia? You, you idiot! Me? Who else? Moony, my friend Moony. You don't have any friends! Moony and Prongs are my friends! They're freakin' idiots!   
  
Moony- Prongs: I vote for "random acts of mind-boggling annoyance"! Now that I have casted my vote I will now reside the rest of my non-existant life (otherwise known as Science class) actually listening to Mr. Bockins.  
  
Prongs- 2 votes against 1. We win! OK, random acts of mind-boggling annoyance it is. Padfoot: get conselling or a good Memory Charm (A/N Another fanfic reference.AbigailNicole, you are hilarious!). Moony: I have a paper at home wiht a bunch of practical jokes written on it. I'll bring it in. #1: Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy". I will now hand over the notebook to Padfoot, in accordance with the prophecy.  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, you lost me at "OK"  
  
Moony- I have found the perfect spork- my life's quest is over at last- in accordance with the prophecy. (A/N Yet another fanfic reference. At The Opera. Hilarious fanfic)  
  
Prongs- Our mascot/calling card will be a spork, in accordance with the prophecy.  
  
Welcome to madness . . . (in accordance to the prophecy)  
  
And with those wise words, we end tonight's broadcast. Please tune in . . . *consults calendar* whenever Prongs (bloody third person AGAIN) can bother deciphering Moony, Padfoot and her (her's especially) handwriting, then typing it up while restraining herself from laughing intermittently at the sheer randomness and stupidity of it all.  
  
If Kathryn is reading this- STAY AWAY FROM SCISSORS!!!!  
  
Farewell, whoever may be insane enough to read this. Mark the occasion and review, please. That way we will know that we are not the only human people on fanfiction.net and that the rest of the accounts are not computerized. The evils of technology . . . Making us all paranoid. But then, I wouldn't be so paranoid if everyone wasn't out to get me. Damn it, that was supposed to be in third person. Ah, well.   
  
Merry Nondescript Non-Religious De-Nationalized Season of Vague Celebration Not Necessarily Based on Tradition or Belief. 


	3. Of philosophers, sporks, first aid and c...

Disclaimer: Marauders's names aren't ours. References to fanfics that aren't ours are pointed out. Beware of real estate agents. Thank you. Now read the chapter.  
  
There are two things that it is imperative (dramatic indeed . . .) that readers of this fanfic (if they even exist) know for this next chapter:  
  
1) Moony and Padfoot are both obsessed with sporks, and they both have a great talent for working sporks into ANY everyday, semi-normal conversation. It's actually quite disconcerting how they manage to casually mention sporks, then start grinning maniacally.   
  
2) Moony, Padfoot and Prongs have to do a project on caesium (a highly explosive metal) in Science class. Prongs is a pyromaniac. Moony and Padfoot were slightly surprised by this psychological disorder. But only slightly, since they're insane too and they're obsessed with sporks, so it's all good.  
  
Without further delay, I present to you, thy figments of my imagination, the reason why the men in the white coats are still thriving and making money, the contents of the Red Notebook!  
  
Science Class  
  
Prongs- Caesium today. Nobody will mind if I accidentally drop it in water, right? I'll give you warning before I *cough* slip. *Man/eye/ikal laughter*  
  
Padfoot- Caesium vs sporks. What is better? I vote for dis spork!  
  
Moony- Was there ever even a competition? Was caesium even an option?! Prongs: It's man/eye/a/kle! And do the sheet! (A/N We're in Science class and our teacher had given us a worksheet to do. Since Prongs is the genius of the group when it comes to Science, she does most/all of Moony and Padfoot's work as well as her own. Why does she bother? Because of she didn't, Moony and Padfoot would most likely a) fail b) actually spend time working on Science or c) be moved to another desk in the class. And if any of those things happened, Prongs would be left all alone, surrounded by *whispers* sane people! *shudders*)  
  
Prongs- I did do the sheet! And I choose . . . CAESIUM!!! To hell with sporks! *gasps* This . . . pyromania . . . is getting out of control. Must . . . watch . . . caesium!  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, go eat some ice cream! Maybe you're just a freak, ever considered it? (A/N Another Ask Moony reference. Eating ice cream releases endorphins in your brain, a chemical that makes you happier and more content. So, eat ice cream! Lots of it!)  
  
Moony- You all need counselling and I need to use a good Memory Charm (A/N Ask Moony reference again) to rid me of all the memories I have when you are being stupid. Which is all the time for Padfoot!  
  
Prongs- Ice cream releases endorphins in your brain, a chemical that makes you happier and more content. I think Moony needs some. And I DO NOT need counselling. I have bad memories of counsellors. *shudders and whispers* They took away my explosives. They STOLE it from us! Tricksey hobbitses! We'll POKES their eyes out! *More man/eye/a/kle laughter*  
  
Padfoot- Pleat man! Totally pleat! And then I was all like SHALAAAAAATTT! How pleat was that?  
  
Moony- *Hiccup!* *Hiccup!* *Borkity!* *Hiccup!* That's toit! I never know what to write when I have to write something (A/N Moony insists that this is from a fanfic but refuses to tell Padfoot and Prongs which one.)  
  
Prongs- We sure make an interesting group.  
  
Padfoot- We are past intresting! We are abstract, little talking, walking atoms absorbed by the sun in the sky, that is a friend of the night and coconut spirits! (An ode to Kathryn). (A/N Kathryn is a friend of ours who moved last year and was just as, if not more, insane than we three are. We miss you Kathryn!) What a mind trip.  
  
Moony- How do you spell "family" in French?  
  
Prongs- Moony: "Famille". Padfoot: Come back down from whatever philosophical height you are trying to inhabit.  
  
Padfoot- Me! At a philosophical height! This must be some sort of break-through in mathematics or science or whatever "philosophical" comes from. I'm gonna be rich!  
  
Moony- Sorry Padfoot but not many philosophers became millionaires. In fact, Plato didn't recieve a cent.  
  
Prongs- And Socrates recieved a funeral from the governors of the city where he lived.  
  
Padfoot- "Eureka" could be my saying!  
  
Moony- I'm pretty sure it's copy-righted.  
  
Prongs- How did we get from sporks to Eureka? Never mind, don't answer that.  
  
Spanish Class  
  
Padfoot- Oh, but I will answer that with my philosophical genius . . . we had changed the subject numerous amounts of time (ex: "Hello!" "Go get conselling and ice cream!") BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Genius, I tell you!  
  
Prongs- We have agreed that I am the genius. you? A philosopher? In that case, we must kill you. You are not a philosopher. Get used to it. Must . . watch . . . caesium! Pyromania and kleptomania means . . . I am Irish in blood and mind! And my affinity for rabid beavers and Monty Python means I'm a little Canadian.  
  
Padfoot- . . . . .okay . . . . .what's your point?  
  
Prongs- I have proof my "unique" personality is a result of a mish-mash of cultures, countries, nationalities and foods.  
  
Padfoot- Mmmmmmmm! Food. Man, those chocolate covered peanuts with artificial coulouring are delicious! They are the official food of the Marauders! (A/N If anyone is actually reading this and is confused, Padfoot means MM Peanuts)  
  
Prongs- I know. I was there. I declared them the official food.  
  
Padfoot- Really. I never knew. How could I have missed THAT.  
  
Prongs- And the Queen of Unsubtle is . . . I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. If you have the gift of sarcasm (like me), you have to be subtle or the brains of those around you will be turned to mush. Not mine, though.  
  
Padfoot- Well, last time you couldn't read my frickin' sarasm!  
  
Prongs- Are you sure? Maybe I was just driving up your blood pressure. It's a perk of supplying you with answers to school work.  
  
Padfoot- Well, that's cruel, man. That was harsh!  
  
Prongs- You deserved it.  
  
Health Class  
  
(A/N Padfoot is is a different Health class than Moony and Prongs. So it's just them two writing in the notebook)  
  
Prongs- Moony has just publically admitted in front of witnesses (i.e. the rest of our Health class excepting the teacher who is both BLIND and DEAF!) that she has fluid instead of a brain.  
  
Moony- I did? I don't remember that! (Although it probably happened about 5 minutes ago . . . .)  
  
Prongs- Goldfish's five second memory. Oh, a stick. Beep. Oh, a stick. Beep. Oh, a stick. Beep. Oh, a stick.  
  
Moony- That was hilarious! Beep. That was hilarious! Beep. That was hilarious! Beep.  
  
Prongs- Thank you. I am willing to overlook you cranial shortcomings because of the compliment.   
  
Moony- Was that a compliment? I didn't notice. (No, that was not being sarcastic!)  
  
Prongs- Notice the phrase above "That was hilarious". Anyway. Change of subject. BRING GLUE TO SCHOOL TOMORROW! We will perform random acts of mind-boggling annoyance, in accordance with the prophecy. First, we'll do the coin/glue joke, in accordance with the prophecy.  
  
Moony- Gotcha! I don't know what to say . . .  
  
Prongs- Me neither.  
  
Moony- I've done all this stuff the teacher's talking about (first aid).  
  
Prongs- Irish people don't belive in organized health care. If it hurts, scream and try to convince people you're not faking.  
  
And there we will stop while the authors run off to get some ice cream. We strongly suggest that any readers go do the same.   
  
We are extremely proud of ourselves, as we have managed to get two chapters online in two days. That works out as . . . . . a chapter a day! Wait, does it? Anyway. Do not expect more of the same, because Prongs's keyboard is throwing a temper again and the caps lock button is stuck. So she has to hold her finger down on the shift button. But you don't need to know that. So, go feed your goldfish. What? You don't have a golfdish? Damn, that's goldfish. Odd how switching two letters can totally change the meaning of a word. OK, I've just been informed by the voice in my head that I'm rambling. Tot ziens. Au revoir. Adios. Goodbye. YES, I'm going now. 


	4. We all appear to be brain dead

Disclaimer: Yar. Names dun't belong to us. Any fanfics that are quoted are referred to. We suggest you read them. Beware of real estate agents. Thank you. Now, read this chapter.  
  
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. If it is not evening wherever you may be while reading this, and you are confused/insulted/baffled by those words, my advice is: GET A HOBBY!  
  
Anyway, the passage that follows is one of my (damn, I mean Prongs') favourite passages in the Notebook. There is a part later on where Prongs seems to disappear and Moony and Padfoot quote a TV show for longer than is healthy. Then, Prongs returns from wherever she went (methinks it was playing a video on the computer of caesium exploding) Moony and Padfoot revert to their regular type of insanity, and we hear crickets chirping in the background. When Moony and Padfoot actually tell Prongs what the name of the TV show is, we'll let you know.  
  
Now, on to the insanity and randomness!  
  
Science Class  
  
Padfoot- OK, I finally get to write! Rock on! *Insert drawing of hand doing the rock on sign* I couldn't write in Spanish class becasue the teacher kept picking on me and giving me the famous "I-just-killed-your-pathetic-excuse-for-a-cat" look and the "I-hate-crunchy-peanut-butter-with-pickles-you-pleat" look. Then in Social Studies (A/N Moony and Padfoot are in the same Social Studies class. Prongs is in another Social Studies class) the teacher was doing the same! Freaky, huh? . . . very freaky . . . I sense a mystery!  
  
Prongs- I sense a disturbance in the Force . . .  
  
Moony- I sense disturbed people . . .   
  
Prongs- I can see dead people . . . They're coming to kill me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to blow you up! it's just . . . the firweorks . . . they were so pretty . . . BURN, MY PRETTY, BURN!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Padfoot- Yeah! Fireworks! I . . . need . . . fireworks! (A/N Does anyone else think that Padfoot sounds scarily like Prongs here?)  
  
Prongs- Another pyromaniac!  
  
Moony- Well, I'm a hydromaniac!  
  
Prongs- What's dangerous about that? Other than being an extreme hazard in a swimming pool?  
  
Padfoot- I'm a lightningomaniac . . . *frizz* . . . *zap*  
  
Prongs- And I'm an insomniac and a kleptomaniac. can we move away from our (rather numerous) psychological problems? (A/N Just to point out, we actually DO have those psych. problems that we listed above. We weren't just making them up. Well, we're not sure about Padfoot's obsession with electricity/lightning. We're hoping it might just be a stage)  
  
Moony- . . . .   
  
Prongs- Are you brain-dead?  
  
Padfoot- Is that a trick question?  
  
Prongs- I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count.  
  
Moony- . . . . beep . . . . .beep. . . . . . beep. (goldfish memory)  
  
Prongs- Yup. Brain-dead.  
  
Padfoot- Right . . . and a little weird.  
  
Prongs- Can we actually have a real coversation?  
  
Moony- I'm bored?  
  
Prongs- Really? You don't seem bored.  
  
Padfoot- A real conversation? What's that?  
  
Prongs- I wish I knew.  
  
Moony- I know! I know! Pick me! Pick me!  
  
Prongs- *sigh* Yes, Moony?  
  
Padfoot- Moony, you're such a know-it-all . . . and a smarty-pants!  
  
Prongs- Uh-oh. Sibling rivalry. Better stay out of the way . . . (A/N If you don't understand this line, read our bio)  
  
Padfoot- Yeah, back off pleat!  
  
Science Class. 9th October, 2003.  
  
Padfoot- Welcome!  
  
Prongs- Yes. Welcome to madness . . . and the land normality forgot. . .  
  
Moony- Or just plain "Welcome-to-the-land-of-Boredom"  
  
Padfoot- Or "Welcome to the land of shut-up-this-land-thing-is-getting-annoying"  
  
Prongs- Sorry to interrupt your extended "Welcome to the land of . . ." metaphor, but DO THE BLOODY WORKSHEET YOURSELVES! (A/N We're in Science class, so we actually have to do work. Work! Of all the possible wastes of time, the teachers had to pick the least flammable! Well, technically work IS flammable, but Prongs learned in Grade One that torching your schoolwork is a big no-no)  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, myself? But, but, but that's forsaken! You will be going against the emperor's wishes! Dare disturb Hiroshima?! (A/N Don't ask "What the hell?!" becasue quite frankly, we don't have a clue in hell what she's going on about either)  
  
Moony- "I asked him if he had any ice and that lead to this whole other thing. He certainly didn't need to bring my mother into it. It's alright, though. I got one of the frosty bastard's eyes!" (A/N Quote from "Pensive" by Oi Angelina. Sirius got into a fight with a snowman)  
  
Prongs- Padfoot: To hell with the emperor! what bloody emperor anyway?  
  
Moony- Prongs: Fine, I could do the worksheet by myself . . . I guess.   
  
Padfoot- Wier de beans wiedy ack I mean wier de beans!  
  
Prongs- Please return to whatever reality it is that we live in. we need to "work" on caesium. Meaning I read fanfics and watch that video of caesium blowing up *zones out for a moment*, while Padfoot reads moviemistakes.com and Moony does the actual work.  
  
Padfoot- I'm in!  
  
Moony- FINE! *Stalks off mentally, angry, thunder roars in fury*  
  
Prongs- Since you won't stalk off physically (you'd lose your source of Science answers- i.e. ME!!!) that *cough* dramatic "exit" will have to do  
  
Moony- *blink* *twitch* *blink*  
  
Padfoot- *twitch* Do you know John? *One-eyed blink* John has sugar *insane laughter*  
  
Prongs- NO! FOR THE LAST TIME I DO NOT KNOW JOHN STAMOS!  
  
Moony- Padfoot: You copied my blinking twitching thing! Prongs: I don't think she was referring to John Stamos. . . .*blink, twitch, blink* *insert copyrighted sign*  
  
Padfoot- Pickles are neat *insert copyrighted sign*  
  
And so we'll finish for tonight with that bit of legal sparring on the sunject of "Who owns the blinking twitching thing?". If any readers are wondering why there are lots of good evenings and good nights in the intros and conclusions, it's because Prongs, who is charged with typing and uploading the contents of the Notebook, tends to work either at some unearthly hour in the morning that can only be considered late evening, or extremely late at night. Hey, she's an insomniac, can you blame her?   
  
Anyway, expect another update soon, as it's the Christmas holidays and we are all unhealthily unsocial, so there's nothing better to do. Farewell, my freaky darlings. 


	5. The green duckies appear for the first t...

Disclaimer: Ack, just go read the ones for the last four chapters. Thank you. Read the chapter now.  
  
We come to it at last . . . the beginning of the insanity . . . the Marauders decide on their pen name! See, we decided to spread the insanity and randomness on fanfiction.net a LONG time before we could be bothered to actually DO it. We first posted in what, late November? Or mebbe early Decemeber. Anyhow, we decided on our extremely long pen name in early October. Unfortunately, it was far too long for fanfiction.net to accept, so we had to shorten it to what yous are seeing today. Go read our bio if you're still confused.   
  
OK, here we go . . .   
  
Spanish Class. 9th October, 2003.  
  
Padfoot- Pen names, Prongs!  
  
Prongs- Moony, Padfoot and Prongs (or those three names in any order)  
  
Padfoot- Or "Padfoot-dripping-in-sarcasm" I love that one!  
  
Prongs- How about "Ode to Canadians, Irish, rabid beavers, pyromania, kleptomania, endorphins and Marauders"?  
  
Padfoot. not bad. Add on "Animagi" and "pickles" and it could be cool.  
  
Prongs- Then I vote for "Ode to Canadians, Irish, rabid beavers, pyromania, kleptomania, endorphins, pickles, Animagi and Marauders". Or, for short, OTCIRBPKEPAAM.  
  
Padfoot- No! I like the long form.  
  
Prongs- Me too. Now we just need to ask Sam.  
  
Padfoot- You meant Moony? I know no sam!  
  
Prongs- Sorry, that's what I meant. Now, we just need to ask Moony. Hah. Ask Moony. maybe you're just a freak. ever considered it? (A/N Ask Moony quote)  
  
Padfoot- Eat some ice cream! And get a good memory charm. (A/N Yet another Ask Moony quote)  
  
Prongs- Now we are ""Ode to Canadians, Irish, rabid beavers, pyromania, kleptomania, endorphins, pickles, Animagi and Marauders" So it begins . . .  
  
Padfoot- And pickles!  
  
Prongs- I SAID THAT!!!!!!!!! No one listens to me. They all ignore me. *sniff*  
  
Nobody loves me  
  
Everybody hates me  
  
Guess I'd better go and eat worms.  
  
Long thin slimy ones  
  
Big fat juicy ones  
  
Oh, how they squiggle and squirm.  
  
Nobdy hates me  
  
Everybody loves me.  
  
Uh-oh . . .  
  
Padfoot- You have major issues. Way too emotional . . . and moody!  
  
Science Class. 10th October, 2003.  
  
Prongs- *mutters under breath about bloody emotionally inferior, un-creative, inferiority-complex-sufferers*. Pencil, Padfoot? What pencil? The *cough* SHINY pencil? *grins maniacally* (A/N Padfoot has this mechanical pencil that's all shiny metal. Padfoot sits beside Prongs in Science and intermittently zones out for several minutes at a time. Prongs likes shiny things. Prongs is also a kleptomaniac. Two and two make four. Prongs likes to nick Padfoot's pencil and then promptly goes into denial about it. Annoys Padfoot no end. Moony just watches and smiles in a bemused way.)  
  
Padfoot- Yeah, captain obvious! What other mechanical, shiny, lovable, innocent little pencil of *cough* MINE have you kidnapped.  
  
Moony- I have elected to simply nod. (A/N See? Moony's too smart to get involved.)  
  
Prongs- *continues to grin maniacally* Pencil? What pencil? Welcome to our increasingly pointless excuse for a conversation, Moony.  
  
Padfoot- And I have elected to shout rude and insane comments that I shall not write. PG 13, remember people/werewolves/stags/canines/*cough* SNEAKY TRAITOROUS RAT *cough*?  
  
Moony- Well why would you write something that you had elected to shout? Padfoot, you are too supid for my well being.  
  
Prongs- Her own well being is out of the question. NOW, Moony and Padfoot, READ THE BLOODY ARTICLE/ESSAY/THESIS THAT THE TEACHER GAVE US!!!!!!!!  
  
Padfoot- What the he (insert two hockey sticks) is an essay/thesis? Whoa, a little bit slow on the uptake, Prongs. Ha. She who laughs last thinks slowest. Let's get lost, I've been there before. I'm not confused, I look this way all the time. Loads more quotes to come . . . . if you say the magic word. *cough* Calgary *cough*  
  
Moony- Nobody say it!!!  
  
Prongs- Is this another pathetic attempt at a joke that I will never guess because I actually HAVE a sense of humour?  
  
Padfoot- Humour? What's that?  
  
Moony- Get a dictionary.  
  
Prongs- Then hit yourself numerous times over your head with it. When half-consious, look up the word "humour". When your brain (and I use that term loosely) is half-asleep, you might understand it better.  
  
Padfoot- I seriously doubt it. Wanna hear some . . . stuff? Kay, here it goes. Individuality - Everyone is unique, just like everybody else. Agony - Not all pain is gain. Dreaming- There is nothing better than watching someone flying high, soaring on the wings of their dreams, except watching someone flying on their dreams with nowhere to land except the ocean of reality. (A/N I dunno where these came from, but I dun't think it was a fanfic, so never mind)  
  
Moony- Prongs: Or she could use a good Memory charm. (Dunno why, but it seems like the wise thing to say) By the way, go get some ice cream. Padfoot: Stop it with the quotes. Yo're getting annoying.  
  
Prongs- GETTING annoying? She crossed that line a LONG time ago. Shut up Padfoot, I NOTICED!  
  
Science Class. 13th October, 2003.  
  
Padfoot- ^ Noticed what?  
  
Prongs- I don't remember. It was somehting you said last time.  
  
Moony- Damn. Memory Charm backfired . . .   
  
Prongs- DAMN YOU MOONY! STOP MESSING WITH MY MIND!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Padfoot- Your mind? What's a mind?  
  
Prongs- Do what we told you to do to undrstand "humour". But look up mind instead.  
  
Moony- Wrong descripttion, Prongs. She needs to get a brain transplant.  
  
Prongs- That might work too.  
  
Padfoot- I have a feeling I need to try playing Crazy Eights the way I play War. (A/N Crazy Eights and War are card games. Yes, we were playing cards in Science class. Prongs' habit of carrying 50 obscure things in her bag actually paid off)  
  
Moony- You cheat too much, padfoot.  
  
Prongs- YES! Play Crazy Eights like you play War! Then, I will WIN ALL THE TIME!  
  
Padfoot- I seriously dooubt it, eh Moony?   
  
Prongs- *mutters about bloody Canadians, then smacks self upside the head, reminds self that self is half Canadian, then continues muttering about bloody stupid Yanks (NOT Canadians) nicking our holidays) (A/N It was coming up to Canadian Thanksgiving and NONE of the Americans in the school would accept that it was a holiday, let alone Thanksgiving. Moony, Padfoot were in a SEVERELY pissy mood with any and all Americans.)  
  
Moony- Bloody Irish louses . . .  
  
Prongs- Bloody wannabe-Irish Canadians . . . (A/N Due to prolonged exposure to an Irish person who routinely uses Irish swear-words in every-day conversation (i.e. Prongs), Moony and Padfoot have BOTH started saying "Bloody" in a vaguely Irish accent. Prongs thinks this is hilarious and loves teasing them about it. Moony and Padfoot hate themselves and think they're being disloyal to their beloved country (i.e. Canada). Prongs just teases them all the more)  
  
Padfoot- Whoa, rivalry. Can't wait 'til lunch. I'm hungry. Nice to meet you Hungry, I'm Padfoot.  
  
Moony- Nice to meet you Hungry, I'm Bored.  
  
Prongs- You all need to eat some ice cream.  
  
Padfoot- Hey, Idiot, I'm Hungry and this is Bored.  
  
Moony- Bored . . . my ink's running out. (A/N All three of us use fountain pens to write in the Notebook. Prongs uses them for everything and carries roughly 40 extra ink cartridges in her bag, which seems to be vaguely like Mary Poppins' carpet bag. As in it looks normal but holds more stuff than seems possible, including, but definitely not limited to: two rolls of masking tape, a pair of pliers form the Science room that accidentally fell in her bag (No, they really did. She just won't give them back.), seven erasers she found in random area around the school, about sixteen notes written by the Marauders that tend to fall out at the worst possible time and a toothbrush. Don't ask about the toothbrush, she isn't sure why it's there, but she can't be bothered to take it out. OK, enough about the sodding bag, back to the Notebook)  
  
Prongs- Will I go get some more form my bag?  
  
Padfoot- OH MY GOD! HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN DAY-DREAMING? IS IT THE END OF THE WORLD? ARE WE ALL GOING TO DIE?!?!  
  
Moony- Prongs: No, don't bother, Padfoot might mistake it for a) food b) an atomic bomb that will kill us all while she's day-dreaming c) dare I say more . . . Padfoot: No, we will all live to see another Science class.  
  
Prongs- Moony: Very tue. Padfoot: No. No. Go back to being catatonic. As is normal for you.  
  
Padfoot- No more sleep. I've been traumatized! Those scary green duckies . . .  
  
Moony- I thought you were supposed to be afraid of styrofoam?  
  
Prongs- Shut up! Don't get her started!  
  
Padfoot- That too! But . . . yum . . . green jello! But those green duckies are so scary!  
  
Moony- Here we go again . . . .  
  
Prongs- And again. Beep. And again. Beep. And again. Beep. And again. Beep. And again. Beep.   
  
Padfoot- You forgot the beeps!  
  
Moony- Beep.  
  
Prongs- Beep.  
  
We'll stop for the day on that intellectual note. Did anyone else think that for the last bit Moony and Prongs sounded like they were resignedly putting up with an annoying younger child they've been charged with looking after? Or was that just me? Never mind, Padfoot's better now, she's gotten over the green duckies. But Moony and Prongs are another story. They'll be traumatized for life.   
  
Review, please! So we don't think we're the only ones who like humour and randomness. Review!  
  
I will now bid you, ladies and gentlemen, good morning, as it's 6:30am on a Saturday morning. Damn this insomnia. Anyhow, good morning all. 


	6. Things to do at Walmart

Disclaimer: We do not own . . . sod it, just read the other ones.  
  
Reviews: We are now the proud owners of nine whole reviews! OK, eight since one of them was Padfoot trying (and failing miserably) to be funny. Guess which one. Hint: Ice cream. Anyway, to our reviewers: Thank you all!  
  
Thief: Sorry, no one has any alter egos, but Padfoot does have multiple personalities. Does that count? And Moony tells us she visits Hogwarts in her dreams.   
  
Remus Lupin's Lover: Moony envies your name. We remind you? This is how you remind me of what I really am . . . we love Nickelback!!! Sorry, randomness. And what do you mean by "foine", please?.  
  
Riffinton: Yup, forty-two (the random mention of DNA was nice too) we like indeed.   
  
Boing_Bang_Kerplank: We do have too much time on our hands, but we don't think of that as a bad thing. We don't have a stalker, though we think that is a GOOD thing. If you are American and live there, we assure you you will never be able to take Polaroids of us, as we live far away from the US, in the obscurest country to ever exist. So we believe.  
  
OK, we lied. There were no updates soon after the last. We apologize. Moony and Padfoot were in Austria with a bunch of Canadians learning how to snowboard, and Prongs was on a mountain skiingand never went below 1,500m the entire week. Sadly, we are now back at school. Even sadder . . .ly (is that a word?), we have *sob* FINISHED the Notebook! We FILLED the sodding thing in three months! We have started another notebook though! We are now called "The Remainder of the Fellowship"! Prongs is the Witch King of Angmar (WKOA), Padfoot is Pippin (and numerous other characters), Moony is Merry (and also numerous other characters) and we will introduce someone new, a friend of ours just as insane as us. So look out for a note in this fic informing you that Prongs has gotten 'round to posting The Remainder Of The Fellowship in the LOTR category.  
  
Anyway, you will read the last of the Notebook in (judging by the rate we're going at) six months. Or six weeks, depending on Prongs. So there's no hope, really. But here's a chapter anyway.  
  
Science Class. 14th October, 2003.  
  
Padfoot- 'Allo!  
  
Prongs- AHHHH! A wannabe Brit!!!! Run for your pathetic sorry excuses for lives!!!! No irish or Canadian or member of a former British colony is safe!!!!!!! (A/N Us being Irish and Canadian, we have a wee chip on the shoulder as far as the British are concerned. Not that we have anything against ALL British people, just the bloody wankers who decided to take over half the world. I'm sorry, was that over PG 13? Ah well.)  
  
Moony- Damn the Brits! !@#^ all them lazy sons of !@#&^!!! How dare they keep us as slaves for who knows how long! (A/N Another of Moony's psych. problems: a tendendy to hold a violent grudge for a LONG time)  
  
Prongs- Bloody stewpid Brits! Now, both of you say that in your excellent Irish accents. (A/N Prongs loves to tease Padfoot and Moony on their becoming a little Irish. And yes, Irish people do pronounce "stupid" as "stewpid". At least they do where Prongs comes from)  
  
Padfoot- Ixnay on the ape snay!  
  
Moony- These Science presentations are really boring. Let's try to make ours lively and humorous all right? (A/N We were watching our Science class give presentations on different elements. We decided to do caesium. All those potential explosions . . .)  
  
Prongs- OK. We get Padfoot on an endorphin-rush and get her to present. we (Moony and I) will just restrain her when she gets too carried away with the Brit-bashing thing. Goed zo?  
  
Padfoot- So where's the Firewhiskey? And why do I have to do all the work? Even though thinking up insults for the Brits is easy, it's me doing the work!  
  
Moony- Good plan Prongs! Aye aye to that! Tru' dat!  
  
Prongs- Moony: Word! Old school! Padfoot- We'll help with the insults and I'll provide the ice cream.  
  
Padfoot- Ixnay on the axnay Exbay doe a ix potiona! (A/N If anyone can tell Moony and Prongs what the hell Padfoot is trying to say, you win a mystery prize)  
  
Moony- You can stop TRYING to speak pig latin now, Padfoot. Prongs: What flavour ice cream? I vote chocolate-endorphins and anti-depressants (are they the same thing?)  
  
Things To Do At Walmart  
  
1) Browse the gun racks, take a gun down and then ask someone where the anti-depressants are.  
  
2) Walk up very professionally to someone who works there and say professionally "Code 3 in Housewares". Walk away.  
  
3) When the intercom comes on, scream "The voices! Make them stop!"  
  
Prongs- Randomness is our way of life. Cookies 'n Cream!!! And why DO kamikaze pilots wear helmets? (A/N This is a question that seems fated to forever frustrate Prongs and annoy Moony and Padfoot whenever Prongs asks them that question over. And over. And over. And over.)  
  
Padfoot- I got another thing. Go into the shoe aisles, point at the shoes and cry out "They spoke! They spoke!"  
  
Moony- You don't have to necessarily use shoes . . .  
  
Prongs- No. Say it in the meat or fish department.  
  
Padfoot- They sell meat in Walmart? Sweet! I wonder if they have stag meat? He he he he . . . .  
  
Moony- Or dog meat?!?!?  
  
Prongs- AHHHH!!!!!!!!!! I'm scarred for life! Damn you Padfoot, damn you!  
  
Padfoot- One for sorrow, two for mirth blah blah.  
  
Prongs- You cretin, Padfoot. It's:  
  
One for sorrow,  
  
Two for mirth.  
  
Three for a funeral,  
  
Four for a birth.  
  
Five for heaven,  
  
Six for hell.  
  
Seven's for a devil,  
  
To be unleashed in yourself.  
  
Science Class. 20th October, 2003.  
  
Prongs- We just did our caesium presentation. And I, personally, think it was an almighty failure. Padfoot: What shiny pencil? (A/N Here we go . . . Prongs has nicked the shiny pencil again)  
  
Padfoot- Hey, I was brilliant up there. Speak for yourself next time. Sheesh . . . And you know very well which shiny pencil, Prongs, and I want it back!  
  
Moony- Well, I thought it went quite well. Not exactly brilliant as described by Padfoot -but well enough to pass with a B or B- or if we're lucky - a B+!  
  
Prongs- Moony: OK. Maybe so. By the way, the wet ink on the transparent sheet you were holding wasn't toxic. Just thought you'd like to know since you practically put your whole HAND in it. Padfoot: I SAID " I, PERSONALLY, think it was an almighty failure". I WAS speaking for myself! Sheesh . . . And OK. I know which shiny pencil. but you won't get it back. *cue maniacal laughter*  
  
Padfoot- Right . . . . . . . .  
  
Moony- Prongs: For the last time, I did not put splosh my entire hand into it! I didn't even touch it! You can check my hands for proof!  
  
Prongs- MY hands are covered in sickly orange blood. I'm not sure whose it is, it was on my desk. (A/N Padfoot insists it was someone's blood. Moony and Prongs think it was the ink from Padfoot's ORANGE fountain pen. You decide. Whatever it was, it took FOREVER to come off.) Moony: I was being sarcastic! Bloody hell. You couldn't take sarcasm if it was dropped on your head. padfoot: You STILL haven't mastered sarcasm, even after a year with me. I've even got Moony saying "bloody" now, but all your points of ellipsis gave it away.  
  
Padfoot- Prongs: I curse you to purgatory with the CROMBEL CURSE! (A/N Prongs made the mistake of cursing Padfoot using old Irish curses. One was the CROMWELL curse. Now Padfoot will attempt to recite the magpie poem written above. See how pathetic Padfoot's memory is.) One for birth, two for death, 11 for sickness, 23 for illegal immigration, 109 for giving your children to an illegal Mafia orphanage. Bla bla bla bla. The point is you are cursed!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Moony- Padfoot: I think that the curse ends at seven.. Prongs: i was being sarcastic at your sarcasm. And unlike Padfoot, I have mastered the cruel art of sarcasm.  
  
Prongs- Moony: You have learned well, my Padawan.Padfoot- I KNOW I'm cursed. Dear Granda didn't like me breaking his table. Long story, but end result: broken table, angry Granda and cursed prongs. By the way, THOSE WEREN'T EVEN REAL CURSES!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Padfoot- Yes they are! I remembered!  
  
Prongs- Then you have TERRIBLE short term memory.  
  
Moony- Anyways . . . laboratoire time!!! (A/N All three of us were insane enough to take Science in French. Oh, how we have suffered for our folly)  
  
Prongs- I was eating those Runt candies all through Social Studies and now I'm thirsty AS HELL! Got any water?  
  
Padfoot- You can have some of the sulfurique acide we're experimenting with.  
  
Moony- I've got cranberry juuice.  
  
prongs- Yes! Cranberry juice! Please! Padfoot: Funny. I'm not suicidal. Wait. Scratch that. I'm not THAT suicidal.  
  
Padfoot- Not THAT suicidal, eh? So somewhat suicidal. Interesting. very, very . . .bizarre.  
  
On that note, we stop for the night. It's too late at night/early in the morning to think up a long conclusion. So we will just plead for reviews. Goodbye, my freaky darlings. 


	7. Random and numerous quotes from LXG and ...

Disclaimer: Us poor ones no own multi-million-dollar-franchise spawning Harry Potter. Capiche? Perhaps we own our minds and ideas, but then again, the theory that the Partially Evil Lab Monkeys control us all hasn't been disproved. Neither has it been proved. Neither has it even been mentioned to anyone who can be considered intelligent enough to prove or disprove it, and can then announce their findings to the world without being thought of as vaguely unbalanced. So the theory has a clean record when it comes to disbelievers. Do Partailly Evil Lab Monkeys control us? Could go either way . . .   
  
After that nice and rambling . . . ramble . . . hmmm. Anyway, we have an announcement to make. As you may have read in last chapter's intro (notice the "may". I never read them myself and I sodding WRITE them), we have finished the Red Notebook and have now started the Green Notebook, called (instead of "The Marauders") "The Remains Of The Fellowship". Well, actually the cover says "Remains Of The Felloship" beacuse Moony had a bit of a idiotic moment. But we're not picky. After all, we only insulted Moony for the full 45 minutes of Science Class. And the 45 minutes of lunch. And a bit in PE. Who can call us picky? *Do not say or even THINK a WORD, Moony!* So, here's Chapter Seven. Enjoy (if that's remotely or humanely possible).  
  
Health Class. 22nd October, 2003.(A/N Please note that only Prongs and Moony are in the same PE/Health class. Padfoot's in another one. So if you're wondering, no, Padfoot hasn't passed out from something. IF (and that's a big . . .ish IF) Padfoot were ever to pass out, it would be from some whack upside the head given to her by Moony or Prongs. She gets them often. And that's coming from someone who does half the whacking.)  
  
Prongs- Moony is very happy that FINALLY she is included in a conversation when there are only two Marauders.  
  
Moony- Finally! Too bad I er . . .I umm . . . forgot the cranberry juice :(  
  
Prongs- Damn you! Damn you, damn you, DAMN YOU! Bloody hell, I'm gonna die of thrist.  
  
Moony- Ummm . . .Oops?  
  
Prongs- "Oops?" "Oops?" Oops?!?! You might very well have killed me and you say "Oops?" ?!?!  
  
Moony- I honestly don' know what to say . . .  
  
Prongs- *gasp* Moony . . . speechless? Hell froze over! (Again)  
  
Moony- No, "Again x3" (A/N Hell tends to freeze over a lot around us. And us being slightly odd, we count how many times it happens. By our reckoning, it's frozen over 7 times by 11th January, 2004)  
  
Prongs- Ah yes. Point. That person (and I use that term loosely) sitting at the desk in front of you is getting really annoying. Do me a favour? KICK HIM NEXT TIME HE OPENS HIS MOUTH! (A/N How annoying is he? Think show-off, full-on wanker, with a superiority complex)  
  
Moony- Right . . .  
  
Prongs- Why not? You yourself said he was annoying you! I kick the guy who sits in front of me in English at least three times a class.  
  
Moony- Good idea.  
  
Prongs- Right then. Random acts of mind-boggling annoyance. I'll kick the guy in my English class and you kick whatshisname in front of you.  
  
Moony- Ya, what is his name?  
  
Prongs- No bloody idea. (A/N For the next while, Moony and Prongs will carry on the discussion that took place in health class where our class (able to see an opportunity not to work from several miles away) spent 45 minutes thinking up hypothetical situations where moving a victim's bneck (always a big no-no) is justified. Great fun.) Hypothetically speaking, should you move a comatose person if you were both on a sinking boat?  
  
Moony- Why bother? I mean really . . .  
  
Prongs- Yeah. A permanently brain-damaged/paralyzed person or a perfectly healthy, rather dead one?   
  
Moony- Or a crippled, lopsided amputee? Or an ugly person or you? (A/N Don't bother trying to make sense of that. Oh, if you haven't seen League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Moony and Prongs spend the next while discussing the plot holes and quoting it randomly)   
  
Prongs- Hey, I'm as immortal as . . .Tom Sawyer!  
  
Moony- And Skinner! I am completely immune to any burns! (A/N Seriosuly, how can you survive being torched with a flamethrower AND having bits of molten metal spilt on you, even if you are an invisible man? Though that shouldn't make a difference if you think about it. Though thinking IS always dangerous.)  
  
Prongs- And I can get out from under an overturned, half-ton car with a primitive cruise-missile about to hit me in 3 seconds. (A/N How the hell did he do that?!?!) "Hello, my freaky darlings!"   
  
Moony- And I'm Ishmael, staying alive with 5 bullets in my heart for long amounts of time.   
  
Prongs- Hey, they were GOLD bullets from Dorian Gray's GOLD gun. "Growl".  
  
Moony- "Bomb voyage"  
  
Prongs- "If that had been permanent, I'd have been VERY angry"  
  
Moony- "I always knew I'd nail you again. Never knew I'd mean it literally." (A/N Those were all Dorian Gray quotes)  
  
Prongs- "Dr. Jekyll at your service" *gaspong and trying to hold up enormous pants*  
  
Moony- "Oooh. The bedroom. Does it give you memories or ideas?" "Ideas!"  
  
Prongs- "Get a grip!" "I thought I just did. And I would remind you all that I am naked in the snow and I can't feel any of my extremeties. And I mean ANY"  
  
Science Class. 22nd October, 2003.  
  
Padfoot- One too many sexual innuendos in ALL of those quotes! You guys have sick minds. Very sick minds. (A/N And the LXG quoting continues . . ) "Where are we going? Australia?"  
  
Moony- *stands up and toasts* "God save the Queen!" *everyone in the room does the same* "That's as patriotic as it gets around here."  
  
Prongs- "Who has automatic weapons?!?!" "It's unsporting! Probably Belgians!"  
  
Padfoot- "Skinner has a lot to answer for" "No, me!" *shoots 5 bullets. 5 gold bullets from a gold gun.* *Ishmael still not dead even though said bullets penetrated his HEART!*  
  
Moony- *Record plays* "Everything was false. Sanderson Reed, the attack in Kenya" *pronounced KEENYA by James Moriarity for some unknown reason*  
  
Prongs- "Not the whole bottle, you idiot!"  
  
Padfoot- What bottle?  
  
Moony- Prongs, what the hell are you talking about?!?!?!?!?!  
  
Prongs- LXG, you bloody eejits! Jekyll/Hyde is talking to the random guy who's attempting to drown himself in the potion.  
  
Padfoot- Oh, yeah! He drank nothing. He bathed in it.  
  
If you haven't seen League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, we strongly suggest you go see it. OK movie, but extremely easy and funny to make fun of it and it's numerous plot holes. Farewell, my freaky darlings.  
  
Reviews- Nickeled:Sheep? Nope, but there are 10 times more sheep in New Zealand than there are people. And on that subject, any idea why the hell a small country like that needs 60+ million sheep? 


End file.
